


Awake

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Castiel/Top Sam Winchester, Clothed Sex, Dean has regrets, Guilty Dean Winchester, Hand Gagging, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Manhandling, Masturbation, Needy Dean Winchester, Noisy Castiel (Supernatural), Pining Dean Winchester, Sastiel - Freeform, Self-Hating Dean Winchester, Voyeurism, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 08:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18869464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dean waited too long, and now Sam and Cas are together.One night, unable to sleep for thoughts of what he could have had, he hears something in the corridor.And he should pretend otherwise, or even call them out on it, or just go back to bed.But he doesn’t.





	Awake

**Author's Note:**

> No happy ending in this one, dear readers, I’m sorry, at least not for Dean.

Sleep had been hard to come by, past few weeks. He’d managed not to fall back on his faithful remedy, because there was no way booze would make his situation any better, but sleeping pills were just as out of the question.

They might fix the symptom, but they didn’t really provide a solution to the actual problem.

Nothing would.

Because he’d made Cas wait too long, and he couldn’t blame the angel when he didn’t turn down the only Winchester who deserved to be with him.

In hindsight, he knew Cas and Sam had been drifting closer, like that, for a while. Friends to brothers and then something way more, and Dean didn’t grudge them it.

They both had been denied happiness and love, and he was certain they’d be good to each other.

Nobody boosted Sam’s self esteem like Cas did. He could make Sam feel like there was more to him than his past, and the dark future Heaven and Hell had planned for him.

And Sam… Sam was gentle with Cas in a way Dean knew he should have been, but never managed, not unless the angel was hurt or half dead. Sam loved Cas for himself, for his smarts and his guts and how even though he was older than the land mass they stood on, he could still find wonder and fascination in things.

He didn’t treat Cas like he was fragile, but he did treat him like Cas was worthy of being cared for, protected, because even celestial wavelengths of intent needed that sometimes.

And sometimes, Cas needed protected from himself.

Yeah, they fit together well, easily, in a way he knew he and Cas could never, not without a lot of work and pain.

But it didn’t make it any easier to watch it happening, to hear Cas laugh and watch him smile softly, to pretend he didn’t know Sam was reaching across the back seat to take the angel’s hand.

And it didn’t stop there, because they were adults in love, and Dean knew there would be other things they were doing, but trying to keep on the downlow.

Sometimes, with more success than others.

He swung his feet to the floor and rubbed tiredly at his eyes...just because he couldn’t sleep didn’t mean he wasn’t exhausted…and then crept to the door.

Dean knew what that noise probably was, but in their lives taking chances was a good way to end up dead, and the guardian in him couldn’t let anything go uninvestigated with his family nearby.

He moved silently into the hall, used to the bunker layout after all this time and unbothered by the meagre night time lighting, and followed his ears.

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and a groan, and then the unmistakable sound of his little brother’s voice.

“Sshh, angel, come on, you gotta stay quiet.”

Dean stopped at the corner, his head warning him to turn around and go back to his room, but he couldn't listen. He peeked out, just enough that he could pull back if he was at risk of being seen, and felt his entire body stiffen.

Sam had Cas pressed into the wall; the angel’s hands were planted on the stone, his cheek rested against it, while Sam’s whole body blanketed him.

He had the angel’s trench coat, jacket and shirt rucked up messily and Cas’s pants were tangled around his ankles, but Sam was so close that was pretty much all Dean could see.

It wasn’t hard to tell what he _couldn’t_ see though; Sam was jerking forward, tiny teasing thrusts and each one seemed to be driving Cas wild.

Dean tried to swallow, but it was like his throat had dried up around him. Something glass sharp felt wedged in his chest, and it got more painful as he saw Cas dig his fingernails into the stone, chipping off paint covered flecks and leaving deep gouges.

He wondered how they’d explain that in the morning, and it was in him, then, to come out of hiding and snap at them.

You woke me up _but you didn’t_.

You can’t just fuck in your room and not wreck the place? _I’d still know, even if you booked a room in town_.

You’re not staying here on your own, you know? _Don’t go, because even if it’s both of you and me, now, instead of us, don’t leave me on my own_.

And there it was. He wondered if Sam would have been that pathetic if things had worked out the way Dean had expected…. Cas waiting until Dean was ready, and then just eagerly taking whatever Dean was able to give?

But he would have taken care of Cas. He’d have gotten better at being with him every day, whetted down the sharp edge in him so he could hold Cas and be with him and not cut him to ribbons.

Except Cas didn’t have to wait for Sam to get better. Sam was already safe hands for Cas.

“Sam,” Cas moaned, “Sam, please…”

Dean didn’t know exactly what Sam was doing, the dark, and their clothing, concealing detail he had no business in knowing, and what kind of freak was he standing here watching this?

Sam’s hips bruised forwards, shoving Cas hard into the wall, and Cas almost wailed.

And then Sam’s hand reached up to cover Cas’s mouth, silencing him, and he wrapped his other hand around Cas’s wrists, pinning him in place, and went for it.

Dean’s hand was down his pants before he even knew it, and he was already hard, needy, and it didn’t take much more than a few grudged strokes before he came messy and hard and then he was fighting the sour taste in the back of his throat.

He stood long enough to watch Sam turn Cas around after, cupping his face, kissing him, even as he tugged Cas’s clothes back into place, and then he fled back to his room.

Suddenly, a little help sleeping didn’t seem so bad.


End file.
